Brush and Ink
by kirin-saga
Summary: G1 It was a very... interesting first meeting.


**Title: Brush and Ink  
Author: kirin-saga  
Rated: G  
Summary: It was a very... interesting first meeting.  
A/N: I was replying to a comment. And as I was replying to that comment, I realized my reply had become a fic. Well, an outline of one. So I decided to turn it into a _real _fic.  
**

* * *

Wheeljack studied the data pad he had been given when he had first arrived at the new base, a data pad which showed a rather confusing map. It frankly looked like a blind sparkling had drawn it. That, or an abstract artist. Perplexed, he looked around for anyone who could help him find his lab. Or a sign. A sign would be helpful.

And a sign was what he found. "Ah!" He grinned behind his mask as he found himself faced with a sign proclaiming that he had managed to find the lab after all. "Guess I didn't need the map after all!" Subspacing the useless data pad, he moved to the door controls, tapped a few buttons, and when the doors opened he entered... someone else's lab. "Oh, sorry!" He smiled sheepishly at the red mech that glanced curiously up at him from where he was seated at a work table.

The mech obviously didn't find Wheeljack very interesting as he soon turned back to his project, without even saying hello. Wheeljack pouted, slightly miffed at the apparent rudeness, and, curious, wandered over to see what the mech was working on. "I'm Wheeljack. Who are you?" he asked, as he looked over the mech's shoulder at a data pad full of complex equations, many of which were far over Wheeljack's head. "What are ya working on?"

He only got another curious look in response, but was otherwise ignored.

Wheeljack gave up on trying to decipher the equations and looked around the rest of the lab. It looked fairly normal, as far as labs went, though there were several items that Wheeljack couldn't identify. He was tempted to ask about them, particularly about the tank of blue phosphorescent fog and the writings on the wall, but didn't think he'd get an answer. So instead, he asked a different question, "I'm not bothering you, am I? I'm new here, you see, and I got lost looking for my lab."

Another curious look, though this one held more interest as the mech turned to study Wheeljack, looking him slowly up and down. He still said nothing but he did hold his hand out to Wheeljack. Wheeljack stared at the hand in momentary confusion, before realizing that the mech probably wanted to shake his hand in greeting. Reaching out for the other's hand, Wheeljack wondered if the mech was silent not out of rudeness, but because he was mute. While extremely rare, it was not unheard of. He wondered if he should ask...

The mech wrapped his hand around Wheeljack's and, staring in fascination at their joined hands, reached for an unlabeled jar of some dark liquid that sat nearby on the table. He pulled the jar close and took hold of a brush that had been resting in the jar. Wheeljack watched in confusion, too curious about what the mech was doing to think of pulling his hand away. "What are you doing?"

The mech smiled up at him in amusement and quickly swirled the brush across Wheeljack's wrist. Still smiling, he let go of his hand and nodded at Wheeljack in dismissal, before returning the brush and jar to their proper places and turning back to his work.

Wheeljack stared at the strange design the mech had just drawn on him. This had to be one of the strangest things that had ever happened to him. Looking up at the mech who was now ignoring him, Wheeljack tried to flex his fingers.

And suddenly realized he couldn't feel his arm.

Bewildered, he looked at his hand. He could move it, could flex his fingers and rotate his wrist, but he couldn't feel any of it. It didn't even have that heavy feeling associated with numbness; it was as if his arm simply didn't exist.

He turned to look at the strange mech with a hurt look in his optics, realizing that it was possible he had annoyed him and was used as a test subject for some kind of experimental liquid in retaliation. Wheeljack pouted and moved slowly towards the door. "I'll just... go now..."

The mech ignored him.

xxx

"I see you met Perceptor."

Wheeljack paused in his scrubbing and turned towards the unfamiliar voice. He had been trying to remove the ink, hoping that that would return feeling to his limb. "Perceptor?" he asked the black and white mech that was watching him with an amused smirk. Not waiting for an answer, he went back to scrubbing his arm with the cleaning solution he had swiped from the med bay.

The mech's smirk grew. "Perceptor. Mostly red and blue. Some dark grey. Some light grey. Silver discs on his arms." He leaned against the wall, still smiling as he watched Wheeljack continue scrubbing his now spotless arm. "No matter how hard you scrub, it's not going to wear off for a while yet."

Wheeljack glared at his arm, running the washcloth gently over the spot where he had started to rub off the paint. "What is that stuff anyway?" He flexed his fingers, disturbed at how there was still no feeling. He couldn't even feel the cloth. "And why did he test it on _me_?"

The black and white mech shrugged, watching curiously as Wheeljack moved his hand. "He always does that. Even got Prime once." He cocked his head as he continued to watch Wheeljack. "And it's just ink, nothing more. Had one of the other scientists test it." He shrugged again. "No one has any idea how he gets it to do what it does." He smirked again. "I'm Jazz, by the way. Nice to see a new face. Well, kind of see a new face," he added, gesturing towards Wheeljack's mask.

Wheeljack, though startled at the mention of the Prime, was more curious about the things Jazz said about this Perceptor. "Strange..." He grinned suddenly, no longer upset, and subspaced the washcloth and cleaning solution. "I think I'm gonna like it here." He bounced a bit. "I always loved a good mystery."

Jazz was still smirking. "I'm sure you will." He gestured at Wheeljack's hand, a curious expression on his face. "The first time I saw him, he painted a similar sign on my right arm, and I couldn't move my fingers for three cycles. And here you are, not even a joor after meeting him, wriggling and twisting your hand, even _if _you can't feel it." He stepped closer and patted Wheeljack on the shoulder, seemingly in congratulations. "He must like you. You're a lucky mech, Wheeljack." With that, Jazz turned and strolled away, not giving Wheeljack a chance to respond.

Wheeljack stared after him, thinking on what he had said. "Likes me?" he said quietly to himself. "He didn't even say hello." Looking down at his hand, which still felt like it didn't exist, he wondered if Perceptor _had _said hello after all. "A strange way to say 'nice to meet you'." He laughed, shaking his head as he held his arm close to his body. Leaving the little used corridor he had retreated to after stealing the medicated cleaning solution, he once again went in search of his lab, a bounce to his step.

Yes, he was definitely going to like it here.


End file.
